


kiss me apart

by matsinko



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (kuroken if you squint), M/M, still waters run deep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:56:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7972606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matsinko/pseuds/matsinko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is by the end of his second year that Bokuto starts thinking of Akaashi as the sea - beautiful and captivating, crawling gently to Bokuto’s soul, flowing in between his ribs, settling in his bones, kindling its own symphony there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	kiss me apart

**Author's Note:**

> the prompt was “I can’t believe you talked me into this.” and then I ended up writing something completely unrelated *sighs*

“I can’t believe you talked me into this, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, quiet and polite, as he spends two extra hours after practice tossing to Bokuto in his very first day of club activities at Fukurodani VC.

 _I’m glad I did_ , is something Bokuto doesn’t say out loud but it _shows_ it the way he gets better by the day under Akaashi’s patience and sagacity. Akaashi enables him in ways others haven’t before and it earns their team victory after another.

 

 

It is by the end of his second year that Bokuto starts thinking of Akaashi as the sea - beautiful and captivating, crawling gently to Bokuto’s soul, flowing in between his ribs, settling in his bones, kindling its own symphony there.

And oh how he drowns, slow and sweet and painfully irreversible.

 

 

He falls for the boy that is the sea with every toss, sharp and calculated, and with every unrelenting gaze sent his way. It’s sweet turmoil, watching but never touching, wishing but never acting, while Akaashi is _right there_ , a warm presence in his life, an unending enigma.

Bokuto is known for wearing his heart on the sleeve so it doesn’t take long until he starts coming apart at the seams with want.

Yet it’s that last game in his final year at Fukurodani that does it, taking him apart; it happens as fast as taking a breath in... and out. The score is 27 to 26 and the ball is about to fall, yet there he is, stormy sea and a breaking wave that gets the ball back in the air and he tosses back to Bokuto from the far end of the court and next thing he knows they’ve won second place at Nationals and the euphoria hits his body like an electric shock.

A mere hour later, he is pushing Akaashi into the empty locker room and kissing him senseless, until their faces are flushed cherry-red and it’s impossible to breathe.

He learns then, that calm waters are the deepest and he is in so deep he’s a goner.

 

 

On his graduation day, panic swells in his chest and he feels nostalgic even before he leaves the school gates. There is one thing that brings the smile back on his face and it’s a quiet promise that is kissed on his lips and embedded in his soul.

_We’ll play together again, for sure._

 

 

College is different, hectic, a constant race with deadlines, volleyball practices, and tons of obligations weighing him down like rocks under his clothes.

He misses him, with every day and every breath, with every tossing practice he does that Akaashi is not there. The nostalgia tugs on his heartstrings, reminding him of a boy that is like the sea,  of soft touches and butterfly kisses.

 

 

Kuroo is around, which is his saving grace, a friendship that soothes his troubled mind and a partner that is there to listen. He stays with him to practice every day after school as both of them aim at making regulars by the end of the year. He has a purpose now and purpose is _good_ , a purpose and a friend means less moodiness, more control.

It is during one of those extra practices that Kuroo asks, “You miss him that much, huh?” and his dark, knowing eyes bare into Bokuto’s.

“Yeah,” then, “as if you don’t miss _him_.”

Kuroo laughs, “You got me.”

 

 

The seasons change and Bokuto realises that being in the same city does not mean they have it easy. They text and they call, but weeks pass without an actual meeting and the need to see Akaashi tingles unpleasantly under his skin, like an itch he cannot scratch and it’s driving him crazy.

So when Kuroo suggest that they skip evening classes and go spectate the Nekoma vs. Fukurodani practice match, Bokuto agrees before he can hear the end of the sentence.

 

 

Seeing his old team play does him good - he cheers, he brightens, he shouts encouraging words that leave Akaashi and Onaga embarrassed and red faced, because Bokuto is always the loudest, his words echoing around the hall.

They don’t win, but it’s okay because they’re doing well, adapting under the guidance of Akaashi’s new captaincy and Bokuto can see the promise in their new first years. Leaving just two regulars behind tends to hit a team hard, yet Fukurodani stands tall, chins up and Bokuto can’t help but feel pride swell in his chest.

_They’re going to be okay._

 

 

After the match, he walks Akaashi home and as Akaashi opens the front door, wide and inviting, Bokuto doesn’t wait to be told twice.

They’re a mess between the sheets, all sweet gasps, and wet kisses and pained whines as they grind into each other. There is a lot of shushing and, “Bokuto-san, they’re going to-- _ah_ \--hear!”, and cursing, spilled words and names like prayers, damp skin and creaking bed and as the world becomes dark around the edges and his mind fills with nothing but cotton, Bokuto swears in this moment they’re infinite.

 

 

The next change of seasons comes with rain and storms, with tests and assignments and with his first game as a regular.

 _I made it_ , he texts Akaashi just before the game.

 _I knew you would_ , Akaashi replies a minute later and then, _Congratulations!_

His small celebration he spends watching movies with Kuroo, eating popcorn and laughing till it hurts. And maybe it’s okay, he thinks. Maybe he is okay with waiting a little bit after all.

 

 

“God I’m so selfish,” Kuroo says one day, “I really want him to come to the same university.”

“I know,” is all Bokuto says as he pats Kuroo on the back because he understands.

He understands better than anyone.

 

 

It is two weeks later, when Kuroo decided he needs a break, packs a backpack with some clothes and goes to visit Kenma, that Bokuto finds himself bored and alone.

 _Have fun and tell kitten I said hi_ , is what Bokuto texts him on the day he leaves.

 _You’re such an ass_ , replies Kuroo followed by a laughing emoji and, _Only I can call him that_.

And a couple of minutes later, _Don’t miss me too much._

Then, _You’ll be fine, Bo._

 

 

Boring, boring, boring. Assignments are boring and Akaashi is busy and his lectures are long and torturous.

 

 

Boring.

 

 

He gets fidgety and anxious.

 

 

Boring.

 

 

Until...

 

 

 _I’m coming over_ , is all he gets as a warning and before he knows it he’s opening the door and Akaashi crashes into him like a tidal wave, taking his breath away, slamming the door shut behind them.

Akaashi kisses him with such fervour and desperation it peels Bokuto's skin until he's left vulnerable and open and god, he missed him _so much_.

Akaashi gives him exactly 5 seconds to dwell on that thought and they’re kissing again; Bokuto is being pressed against the wall, impatient lithe fingers pressing under his t-shirt, starting a fire there, and it spreads from tip to toe.

Bokuto pauses for a second, thumb brushing the skin under Akaashi’s eyes, and breathes, “Are you really Akaashi? So eager.”

Bright eyes meet his with such demanding abandon that he forgets how to _think_. The ache in his belly grows like a balloon when Akaashi leans forward, soft lips brushing along his earlobe and whispers, low and broken, “I’ve missed you so much.”

God.

_God._

Bokuto is a goner when his back hits the bed and his clothes are peeled off and he lies there, naked and exposed and so damn turned on it hurts. “Please, Akaashi, just-”

“I know, I know,” Akaashi shushes him with a quick wet kiss and then he’s turning him around, slender fingers sinking into his skin, leaving a burning-hot trace of where they’ve touched.

Those fingers spread him open, and he can feel a hot damp puff of breath, teasing his skin, before a slick-wet tongue presses in between his cheeks and he briefly wonders if it's possible to black out from being too fucking _turned on_.

“Holy-- _ah_ \--fuck, Akaashi,” Bokuto just loses the skill of forming coherent sentences, his mind goes blank, skin sensitive and raw-hot from the wet heat of Akaashi’s mouth and the sweet sweet humming that goes straight through Bokuto’s spine, like small electric shocks. He's eating him up, tongue licking and sucking, filthy wet noises filling up the room.

His arms reach for the bedside table on autopilot, desperate and rushed because he is not even sure if he can hold it any longer.

The pretty wet noises that Akaashi makes, the rhythm of his tongue--in and out, in and out--wreck him _so good_  that he can come, right here, right now, completely exposed and raw with want.

“Akaashi, I--I’m-- _ah Jesus_ .” He presses his face into the pillow. _It’s too much._

Bokuto begs and sobs until Akaashi is _finally_ sliding into him, filling him up, sweet, sweet ache settling at the low of his back until it dissipates and bursts into pleasure, lighting fireworks along the network of his nerve-endings.

It’s going to ruin him.

“Harder,” he pleads, the word barely forming at the tip of his tongue. He is shaking, whining, his whole being is a mess, left at the mercy of Akaashi. Pleasure builds heavily in his lower abdomen, faster than ever, and he is gone before a coherent thought can form in his brain.

He comes fast, desperate, untouched and Akaashi follows shortly after with the sweetest sound of surrender that goes straight back to Bokuto’s lower abdomen and _shit_ , he’ll drown in the boy that is the sea, gladly and willingly.

 

And he can’t help himself, he is greedy and Akaashi’s eyes are still avid with heated longing and all it takes them is 5 minutes until Bokuto is fucking Akaashi into the sheets this time, his name spilling from his lips like a broken prayer, pleading and pleading.

 

  
  
Akaashi doesn’t come in his life as a storm, he comes slowly rather, understanding and steady, constant and reassuring and builds a new world for Bokuto - one that is made of trust and friendship and love that runs deep into Bokuto’s insides, sweetly tearing him apart.

**Author's Note:**

> this is inspired by another work
> 
> and even though it's very brief and non-explicit, it's the first time i add sexual content to a fic *sweats nervously*
> 
> [come say hi](http://matsinko.tumblr.com)


End file.
